They said it best, didn’t they?
I’ve discovered that I have a love/hate relationship with those two days called the weekend.
The weekend can be lovely. Saturday allows me to take care of errands and meet with friends and go to the movies–all the things I don’t get to do during the long week. Sunday allows me to wind down a bit, relax, sit down on the couch and catch up with the latest laugh-fest on the Lifetime Movie Network. (How can one woman not realize that the villain is inside THE DARK BEDROOM? Hello?) It’s a delightful combination, those two days.
It only lasts two days. Two days. And then Monday rolls around like a typhoon, as if Saturday and Sunday never manifested themselves! It’s not right. The government needs to…they need to fix it. Just like they commandeered daylight savings time. Because they control when the sun ascends and descends. Right. Never mind.
It’s not fair. The weekend does this thing: you’re getting into the groove, you’re taking naps, starting to love the freedom of it all–and then kaput. Over. Just like that. Biggest letdown ever.
And so it’s Monday. The week has returned and the vicious cycle begins anew. Thank goodness for carbohydrates. They never disappoint me.